Exile
by Chipmunk78
Summary: When a Vault dweller finds themselves in the wasteland with no memory of how they got there, they must piece together who they are, why they are here and how to find their way home while dodging Raiders, Mirelurks and Super Mutants
1. Chapter 1

I woke up in the middle of a road. I don't know how I knew it was a road but it called itself from the depths of my mind.

My vision was still blurry, I couldn't stop shaking and I felt like I had a radroach scurrying around in my head, eating up all my thoughts.

I looked at my surroundings.

Fuck, this was bleak.

Desert wastes as far as the eye could see, with the shells of old, tall buildings leaning against each other, as if for support.

At least, the ones still standing were. There were building frames all over the place.

There were pathways and roads that had been broken up and shattered.

I'd woken up at an intersection.

So, I knew what a road and an intersection are. What I didn't know was where I was, how I got here, or even my damn name!

"Sssssss". I heard the noise as I was wandering towards the remains of the bigger buildings.

I don't know why I was heading there, I just figured buildings equals people.

"Ssssss. Dude! Get over here!"

I looked around and behind a pile of rubble I saw a figure peeking out, waving desperately at me.

"Man, if you don't get hid right now, they gon' _kill_ you!"

I looked around. I couldn't see anyone but I could hear voices, laughing and shouting.

There was enough of a sinister edge to them I did as the voice had demanded and went and hid behind the pile of rubble.

We peered out intently. A few moments later a group of five people walked into view ahead of us.

They were dressed like nothing I'd ever seen before.

They all wore tattered trousers. The three males wore nothing on their top halves except weird belts with bullets fastened into them.

The two females wore beaten bra type things and nothing else.

Their hair was shaven in all sorts of weird designs.

Except the one that seemed to be the leader.

He wore a helmet that looked like a welding mask.

They were carrying something.

To my horror I realised it was a woman! Naked, screaming and fighting but still a woman.

She was being carried face down, stretched out between four of them like a blanket.

Her feet were held by the two females while two of the males held her arms.

The one with the mask brought them to a halt.

He bent at the waist and brought his head to the womans.

He obviously said something because she started fighting even more.

The leader stood back, drew a sword that I hadn't noticed, and swung at the back of her neck.

My new friend looked away. He was obviously expecting her head to come off.

It didn't

It did, however, seem that her spinal cord had been damaged because her body went limp but she continued screaming with lung bursting desperation.

Another hit.

Then another

On the fourth swing the woman went silent. I didn't know if she was dead or merely unconscious.

It took a further two swings to separate head from body.

I watched in disbelief as they cut off her hands and walked away, waving at each other with her dismembered hands while her body and head lay where they had carried out this disgusting act.

"Raiders", muttered my saviour.

I waited until I was absolutely sure they had gone before picking my was across to the woman.

I knew her!

That is, I knew her face. I was sure I'd never seen her naked before.

 _Katie!_

The name hit me like a physical force.

She was my sister!

I'd just watched my sister being murdered and it was only now I realised who she was.

I felt my mouth water fiercely. Then I lurched.

I don't know how long it was since I'd eaten but my stomach was obviously empty as I dry heaved for what felt like a good ten minutes.

When I'd calmed down enough, I carried her body back to where I'd been hiding. I was sickened by the fact the only way I could carry Katie's head was by her hair.

I set her down gently.

"Man, that is some fucked up shit", exclaimed the other man.

He had a lisp, so he actually said _that ith thome fucked up thyit._

"This is my sister, Katie", I told him.

"I'm sorry man." He suddenly realised something, "Hey, I'm Jonesy, what's your name?"

I realised I still couldn't remember and said as much.

"Listen, Jonesy, I need to bury her. I can't leave her out here like this".

With Jonesy's help, we dug a grave.

Jonesy had an outfit that he gave me.

I was going to dress Katie in it when he stopped me.

"Naw, man. _You_ need to wear that".

I looked at him in incomprehension.

"That blue romper suit? With that big '31' splashed on your back is nothing more than a beacon with a target on it. Its probably how the Raiders picked your sister out".

I changed myself into the pants and smock before changing Katie into my "romper suit".

We buried Katie and I sent a few minutes at her grave side.

To start with I was racked with grief.

Then I became consumed with anger.

"What are you gonna do?" Jonesy was looking at me curiously.

"I'm gonna find these bastards and kill them", I growled.

"You need to eat first", he chided.

I tried to ignore him and walk after those murdering Raiders.

Suddenly my body went weak and limp and I collapsed to the ground.

"Man, I warned you", came Jonesy's voice above me.


	2. Chapter 2

**_2_**

I looked at the platter before me.

I recognised the Big Boy's Fancy Snack, the Sugar Bombs, the Instamash…

What I didn't recognise was the skewer of meat.

I held it up. "What is this?"

"Nutritious is what it is, now eat".

I took the first morsel of meat into my mouth and chewed.

I chewed some more.

I chewed even harder.

I gave Jonesy a bemused look.

"How in hell do you eat this"?

Jonesy laughed.

"Yeh it's tough. But it'll keep you going".

"What is it"?

"Iguana bits".

"Iguana? Where in the hell do you get Iguanas from in…"

I stopped short, realising that I still didn't know where I was.

"New York?", Jonesy finished for me.

"New YORK"? I spluttered, Iguana meat flying from my mouth.

What the fuck am I doing in New York?

Jonesy looked at me with curiosity.

"Well, where did you think you were?"  
"Still in Alberta" I cried out.

"Alberta, Canada?" Jonesy looked at me like I was crazy

"I don't know any other Alberta's"

I did some quick math (which I was surprised to find I could still do, along with geography)

"Alberta is about 4000 miles from New York, so it'd take a month to walk that in a straight line. If I deviated at all its probably more like two months".

"Well I don't think you were doing much walking", Jonesy muttered.

"And why is that?"

"Because from what I could see, you were loaded up on Buffout. You fell off the wagon. Litereally."

"What does THAT mean?" I demanded.

"You were literally on the back of a wagon, being pulled by a Brahmin. You…" Jonesy paused.

"I what?"

"You were in the company of slavers. They didn't seem to notice you'd fallen away. Katie, they dumped a little before you fell off. Guess they had no more use for her. I tried to get her to come with me to keep her safe, like I did wit' you but she was scared and just took off".

I chewed my Iguana bits in silence.

I'd nearly finished my meal when Jonesy spoke again.

"I ain't never seen no-one from no vault before".

"Vault?" I asked.

"Yeh. The romper suit with the number on. I've heard stories so I know that be what they wear in the vaults but I ain't never seen no vault dweller myself."

"What stories?" I had an inkling I was going to regret that.

"You ever hear of the Lone Wanderer"?

I had. The guy was a legend.

Apparently he'd taken on the world in order to find his dad and together they were finding a way to purify the water to stop it being irradiated when the guys dad had died.

"But that's just legend", I added.

"Legend is a made-up story that starts with the truth".

I eyed Jonesy with a newfound respect.

"Hey", he started, "I is educated!"

I gave a single snort of a laugh and finished my meal.

When we'd finished eating, Jonesy told me the rest of what he knew about the slavers.

Apparently, there were at least five of us on the cart.

I had to find them.

I also wanted to find my sisters killers and make them pay.

I also still wanted to know where the hell someone would find iguanas in New York. They didn't exactly come up very much in Canada from what I knew.

"Let's just say there are ways of getting Iguana Bits and they are plentiful", Jonesy said cryptically.

I shrugged. I didn't have the heart to follow it.

I outlined my quest to Jonesy.

"Man, you crazy! If the Raiders don't split you open, the Slavers will tear you're head off. I mean, look. Raiders are so jacked up on booze and chems, you could walk right up to them and they'll laugh they're asses off until you put a bullet in their heads.

Or else they could decide to shoot you in the ass and laugh their heads off. You got a 50/50.

But Slavers? If they recognise you as having got away, they'll just kill you. No chat, no questions, just 'BOOM'. And if _that_ ain't enough, the Slaver you were with were led by a Super Mutant called Mack. And those are some mean SOB's. Tough too. You got about as much chance of getting revenge on them as I have in getting to the moon."

"Thanks for the confidence", I murmured.

"Oh you think I should make it all flowery and nice for you?" Jonesy raised his voice. "That's just the Raiders and Slavers. What are you gonna do about the Legion? Or the other Super Mutants? Or the Mirelurks in Old New York Bay?"

"The _what?"_ I had never even heard of a Mirelurk.

"Or the Ghouls".

"You gotta be pulling my leg"  
"Deathclaws?"  
"Now I know you're making this shit up".

" _Oh really?"_ Jonesy raged at me.

He suddenly looked around, checking no-one had been attracted to the noise.

He looked at the ground and blew a breath out, calming himself down.

He looked at me with such conviction it felt like I was gonna burn under his gaze.

"A'ight", he nodded fervently. "Come on. I'll introduce you to someone.


	3. Chapter 3

We made our way deeper into an area that looked like it had once been highly populated.

Jonesy pretty much refused to speak to me along the way.

We got to an entrance with steps that led underground.

As we reached the bottom, Jonesy opened a gate.

"Welcome to the New York subways" he said, ushering me through.

We made our way down through an underground concourse.

Off to our right were sets of rails in man-made gulleys.

I remembered seeing pictures of this kind of place back in my classes.

The pictures had been of the DC Metro but it looked the same.

As we moved away from the platform and into a dark tunnel, we came up against a destroyed train.

Jonesy squeezed past and then waited for me to follow.

We carried on down the tunnel until we reached a door in the wall. A sign above read "maintenance staff only".

Jonesy knocked at the door.

A figure answered, recognised it's caller and allowed us in.

As we entered the room, the sudden light made me squint hard. I could only hear Jonesy and the rooms occupant.

"Hey Brent. Long time no see, how's things Ghoulling?"

"That joke wasn't funny the first 200 times and it still ain't", came an extremely gruff reply.

My eyes started to adjust. I could see we were in a service cupboard-cum-office.

There were racks and metal boxes littering the place, with Steel only knew what on and in them.

Hold on, did Jonesy just say "ghoulling"?

I turned to look at our host.

"Crap, what happened to you?" I exclaimed

"Yeh, I'm pleased to meet you too, Smoothskin. I don't think"

The figure that confronted me looked like a corpse, but they could move, breathe and speak.

"Brent, this guy is my friend" Jonesy cut in.

Brent eyed me for a moment. Or, at least, I think he did. It was hard to tell with the glaze in his radiation burned eyes.

"Doesn't mean he has to be my friend. If you must know, severe radiation reaction. I'd like to see what you look like after exposure to a thousand plus rads".

A thousand!

"How are you not dead?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Well, technically I should be. But the reaction to the radiation and a steady diet of Sugar Bombs and Super Jet get me by. Which reminds me. Hey, J", he called to Jonesy. "Got any Super Jet"?

"Naw man, you know the other Ghouls won' t let me near to get any."

"Tell them Brent sent you"

"Yeh, your name is less welcome than mine my friend"

After a bit of back and forth, they eventually got around to bringing me into the conversation.

"So, Brent. Our friend here doesn't know what Super Mutants, Mirelurks or Deathclaws are".

I noticed Jonesy had left out the bit about me not believing in ghouls, since I'd just met my first one.

"Jeepers", breathed Brent. "D'ya even know what a Molerat is?"

"Of course I know what a fucking Molerat is", I snapped back. "You know what a Yao Guai is?"

"Yeh, used to be black bears. Get them all the time in DC. Is that where you're from?"

"No, Alberta. Although they are brown bears up there".

"Sheesh you're a long ways from home"

I glared at the ghoul for a second. "I have been made aware of that. Thanks".

"Don't mention it".

I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not thanks to the lack of facial features.

For the next couple of hours I was bombarded with Super Mutants, Deathclaws, Mirelurks, feral ghouls (which are apparently different to and less self aware than regular ghouls like Brent) and several other interesting characters like the Legion.

That night I slept deep and dreamed hard. After all the information I'd been bombarded with it was a fucking nightmare


	4. Chapter 4

I woke some hours later on a makeshift mattress, praying that last night had been nothing more than a bad dream.

I looked over to the other side of the room. Yep, there was a living corpse, snoring away. Then came the memory of Katie...

"Morn'n", came Jonesy's cheerful greeting as he handed me a Nuka-cola.

The guy was way too happy considering what we'd witnessed yesterday and the surroundings of this, what did he say? "Subway"?

"Jonesy", I wiped the sleep from my eyes. "Doesn't anything _ever_ get you down? Like, at all?"

"Used to. But the way I see's it, can't change nothin' so don't worry nothin'. Just make the best of it. Man, I seen so many things it's either gon' make you value every day you wake up or curse every day you wake up and make you wanna die. I prefer the first one"

I guess I could see his point, but still...

Jonesy suddenly turned serious. "Now", he began as Brent stirred and woke up. "You wanna find a way to get the bastards that killed your sister, along with the ones that took you both captive".

It was a statement, not a question, but I still nodded.

"Well that's gonna be a struggle. 'Specially as I'm guessing you don't got no caps on you?"

I'd heard about this. People using Nuka-cola caps as currency. As it was I didn't have any and indicated this. It wasn't something we'd ever had to worry about in the vault.

"Thought so." Jonesy rubbed his chin. "You're gonna need weapons and armour. I guess I got this Merc's outfit that no-one seems to wanna buy so I'll let you have it. But it comes on condition".

I checked over the armoured trousers and shirt. The fabric not covered by armour was shot full of projectile holes. No wonder no-one had bought it.

Still, it would provide more protection than a jumpsuit or my current two-piece set of rags.

"What's the condition?" Why did I feel like I would regret asking...

"You're gonna need disposable to buy weapons, ammo, food, stimpacks, repairs and all kinds of shit. So if you take the armour, you're working for me while you build up capital".

Well, shit. This guy was more educated than he made out.

"Working for you... Doing what?"

"Man's getting old. I cant keep going forever like a Ghoul," he indicated Brent who was still trying to clear his head and just stared, bemused. "I need some younger bones to help me. See I makes my money by scavenging and selling. The selling I can still do, but the scavenging getting harder".

I knew where this was heading. "What if I get caught or run into trouble"?

"See that there Pip-BOY on your wrist? It has a target acquisition system on it. Get stuck, it'll get you on target"

Jonesy showed me the VATS controls.

"But get what on target", I blurted. "What, am I supposed to just spit at them and hope the get offended enough to just walk away in disgust?"

Jonesy turned away and rummaged in his pack while Brent watched on. Then the two exchanged a look before Jonesy turned back around to me.

"Here, .32 calibre pistol. Ammo. Not exactly powerful but it can still leave a hole in someone's head"

Jonesy went about whatever shit he was doing. Right now I felt so low I didn't care.

"I can't shoot", I murmured. "Never even held a gun"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a piece of paper appeared in front of my face.

On it was a hand-drawn but _very_ detailed map showing a route out of the subway and into a semi-collapsed building

"Meet me on the top floor in an hour. You'll learn how to shoot", Brent's gravestone voice rumbled into my ear.


	5. Chapter 5

I found my way to the floor of the building Brent had drawn the map for.

As I approached, he was wiping down a larger pistol. He saw me looking at it in confusion.

"10mm semi-auto", he explained. "All you need to know for now is that means you pull the trigger, it'll keep firing until the clip is dry".

He shoved a magazine in place and yanked back the top slide, letting it spring back.

He indicated a target drawn onto a wall in the next building.

He suddenly started firing. It sounded like he'd unleashed the whole 'clip' in one go!

"Jesus Christ!" I yelled to be heard as the noise rang out. "You're gonna wake the dead, man"!

I suddenly realised what I'd said and to whom.

Brent just shrugged. "Hey, its no skin off my nose". He made a rasping noise that I realised was him laughing. The relief of not getting shot at made me laugh a little louder than was necessary.

"If you don't know the exact route in here, there's enough traps to take out at least ten Super Mutants. And that's not a guess." He looked at me meaningfully, the meaning being that he'd actually taken out ten Super Mutants in the past. I relaxed a little at this.

"As for making noise", he pointed out into the street, "all it'll do is get us extra targets". He pointed at a Molerat snuffling around the street below.

Brent started me off on the static wall target. just learning how to aim for a spot and get the bullet within twelve inches of it. From there I started learning to get closer and more accurate shots.

Then he moved me onto a more difficult target. I had to shoot a moving Molerat.

I aimed how Brent had taught me, pulled the trigger and with a "BLAM" and a squeal the Molerat went down.

"Headshot," Brent relayed to me appreciatively. "First time, too".

He went down and dragged the Molerat in.

He'd already set up a firepit as I was practicing on the static target.

He set to work skinning the Molerat and preparing legs, steaks and fillets.

I balked slightly at the idea. but, as Brent said, "you gotta eat what you can. There's fuckers out there would eat you raw!"

As we sat down to our Molerat steaks (which didn't actually taste as bad as I thought. Close, but not as bad), I explained why I wanted to learn to shoot.

"Yeh, J had told me", he replied. "That's why when I sae you getting pissed off I decided to help. Lost my family to Raiders so I know how you feel."

"If you don't mind me asking, Brent. What actually _is_ a Ghoul?"

"We're genetically human."

"Genetically. What does that mean?"

"A Ghoul is a human that got caught in an extremely large radiation field. It did enough damage to turn us into corpses, but at the same time altered our DNA so that it stops the aging process. We're forever right on the cusp of death, but we won't get there by aging."

"How large a radiation field are we talking?"

"Atomic bomb large". He stared at me meaningfully.

It took a moment for my brain to catch him up.

"You mean, you were there when the bombs fell?" I was incredulous.

"Yup. I was a Sniper in the Rangers. I was on overwatch when a bomb fell. Blew up my team and turned me into this"

"But that makes you, what, 250 years old?"

"Give or take. Hey, no aging, remember?"

"Yeh I guess, but..."

It was going to take a while to sink in.

In the meantime I'd found a new appreciation for the Ghoul.

He went on to explain the difference between a "normal" Ghoul (even Brent laughed about that term) and a "feral one". Turns out a Feral will attach literally anything, including Deathclaws and Normal Ghouls.

Normal Ghouls can have a tough time with a Feral, but a Deathclaw will just rip it in half.

"You ever see a Deathclaw, unless you got a Fat Man just make sure that bastard don't see you", was the advice.

It was getting dark by the time we wrapped up.

By this point I'd taken down four Molerats, five wild dogs and a Bloatfly.

We headed back into the subway.

As we went to head into the door, Brent stopped me, sniffed the air and told me to wait while he went inside.

He came back out moments later. I didn't think it possible, but Brent was visibly upset.

"God-damn Raiders", he murmered. "Came in and destroyed everything"

"Jonesy"? I met the Ghoul's gaze. he shook his head. Jonesy had been killed.

"I'm coming with you kid", he growled. "Jonesy was my only friend. I want these fuckers heads on spikes".


	6. Chapter 6

We decided we would hunt best after some sleep.

We rescued the bunks and mattresses as best we could and got our heads down.

The thing with being in an underground tunnel - and I guess I knew this from living in a vault for all my life until now - is you have no concept of day or night. Your body clock has no light or dark references to work off so it just makes some wild guesses.

I remembered one of my lessons working off of a pre-war set of slides. It had described something called 'jet-lag'. It meant that in people who lived above ground, if they took one of their winged bus things to another country, if it was far enough away, the difference in time zones (each country had at least one) could mean that when your body thought it was 12am it was actually 3pm the previous day.

Living your whole life in a vault or a tunnel had the effect of being in a permanent state of jet-lag. Or at least, that's what I'd been told in class.

Consequently when Brent shook me awake I had no clue how long I'd been asleep.

"What time is it?" I murmured.

"I dunno. Daylight o'clock. We need to get moving", came the terse reply.

"How long did we sleep"?

"Some odd hours".

Helpful...

"Since the bombs fell there's been little to no track of time. Although the Pip-BOY's seem to be fairly accurate. Not that I have one"...

I took the hint and looked at my Pip-BOY.

06.25am.

"So what's the plan"? Brent was the Army Ranger, so he was most likely candidate to be tactician.

"I don't know what your plan is, but mine is to just wipe out every raider bastard I can find."

I mulled this over.

"How many raiders do you reckon there are".

"A good few hundred gangs, with four or five in each gang"

"In the US? That's manageable locally then". Brent gave me a look that, even with no facial features and radiation glazed eyes left me in no doubt I'd misunderstood. "You just meant in New York, didn't you?"

" _Old... Old_ New York Bay. That's only some'in like 20 square miles".

Oh. That didn't leave me with much confidence.

"You'll be fine kid. I've survived... what did you say, two hundred years2"

"If not more. I suppose that means you know what you're doing".

As we poked our heads out if the subway, we decided to spend the day in his target practice building while we checked out the lay of the land further afield and watched out for any sort of routines of raiders, Super Mutants and whatever else so we could plan our route.

Well, Brent decided. I was now just along for the ride.

We'd salvaged whatever we could from the maintenance room and brought it all with us. We were taking it in turns on "overwatch", or lookout as I called it, while sorting through all the shit that both Brent and Jonesy had accumulated, deciding what we needed and what was junk.

We hardly spoke over the next few hours, other than the odd grunt which would serve as both question and "yes" or "no" in reference to whether we should keep each item. We were noticing groups of raiders, Super Mutants, Molerats, dogs, the odd Radroach and, towards the waterside, a few Mirelurks.

"How do you kill a Mirelurk, since they have crazy thick armour?" It wasn't something we'd discussed and I was curious.

"Good point. You need to shoot 'em squarely in the face. Which gives you a target the same size as your head. But they are crazy fast if they see you and charge at you with their head down so you need to hit them before they see you. What made you ask?"

"Ummm..." I hesitated. "Because I think one is heading this way".

We were fairly close to the bay, so if one had noticed us moving it may have got curious. Jonesy and Brent had taught me they were furiously territorial.

Brent had picked up his sniper rifle.

"Shit me..." he murmured

CRACK! He fired a round off.

He chambered another round.

CRACK! Another round fired.

"Come on you fucker, die", came Brent's low growl.

CRACK!

"Errrm..."

"What?". I didn't like the sound of "errrm".

"I think I just pissed it off".

I grabbed the nearest projectile weapon, which turned out to be an assault rifle.

I aimed as best I could purely by eye and fired full auto.

Between Brent's aimed shots and me, most likely, just distracting it, we brought it down

"Good work kid," Brent acknowledged. "But we gotta find a new location. Everything this side of Pennsylvania will have heard that".

We'd spotted a building a short way away that looked secure so we set off for it.

From what we'd seen, we'd only risk our lives in the process.


	7. Chapter 7

We made our way to the building Brent had pointed out.

"We need supplies," he told me. "I suppose you don't know what a SuperMart is, Vault Boy?"

I didn't and said as much.

"I'm guessing you had stores in your vault?"

I thought hard. I could only remember the cafeteria. I was pretty sure any other things we needed were simply supplied by the Overseer and brought to our dorm rooms directly.

"Okay then", Brent started after thinking some. "It's most like your canteen. You pick your goods, you pay for them."

We didn't pay for anything in the vault but I let him continue.

"The Mart has rows of shelves and chillers, you go around with a cart, pick up whatever you want and as long as you got enough money at the checkout it's yours to take away.

And it's not just food. Cigarettes, beer, meds, clothes, furniture… If you want it, they got it."

He stopped for a moment before realising something.

"Of course, that was before the war…"

He suddenly looked very lonely. I put a hand on his shoulder. I would have said he was all skin and bone, if he had any skin…

Brent pulled himself together and headed toward the SuperMart.

"Alright, we go in quietly. Raiders love to hang out in places like this", he warned.

We went to the nearest entrance and Brent slowly opened one of the doors until there was enough of a gap for him to peek through.

He opened the door wider once he was satisfied and ushered me through.

As he closed the door behind us, I looked around.

We were in a square room that turned out to be the cart parking area.

"Store's through those doors", Brent gestures to a set of double doors in front of us.

I spotted a Nuka Cola machine and pointed it out to Brent.

He jimmied the lock and we grabbed the contents of five bottles.

We opened the door into the store proper.

I heard laughter and hoots coming from deeper inside.

" _But baby, I love you"_

 _"_ _Keep dreaming asshole. You touch my tits again I'll cut your fucking hands off and eat them"_

 _"_ _Hey Spike, you got more chance of screwing a molerat than Freija!"_

More laughter.

By this time we had snuck in and closed the door.

We started checking the shelves for goods.

Dandy Boy Fancy Snacks.

Salisbury Steak.

Cram.

Sugar Bombs (this one made Brent's eyes widen. I had no idea what was so appealing about them).

Mirelurk cakes.

We carried on and found a separate area with waist height partitions and a sign above telling us this was the "customer service" counter.

We ducked under the counter at a gap and looked around.

The Raiders must have been using this as their ammo stash as their were crates of it everywhere.

"5.56, 7.72, 10mm, frag grenades…" Brent muttered away as he sifted through the ammo crates.

I pulled a weird looking weapon off a shelf.

"What's this", I hissed.

Brent looked like I'd handed him a bar of gold.

"Laser rifle. Do _not_ lose that baby", he breathed. "Aha…"

Brent turned around with a key in his hand.

"The Mart Pharmacy key. We should be able to find some meds".

We worked our way around the outer perimeter of the store until we approached the "delicatessen" counter. This was where all the voices were coming from.

Brent peeked over the counter, took a look around then lowered his head.

"This seems to be their den", he whispered.

We crawled on all fours under the height of the counter until we were at the other side than got to our feet and walked quickly in a crouch to avoid them seeing us.

 _"_ _Hey, you hear about Machine's crew taking that bitch's head and hands? 'Parently she was screaming even after they'd cut her head off. That is fucked up man"_

The voice giggled hysterically.

I was ready to turn around and grab the bastard when Brent grabbed me instead.

"Do _not,"_ he hissed. "They are jacked up on Buffout and Psycho. They'll just rip you apart".

I considered this for a long few seconds. Brent looked at me with earnest.

Eventually I just nodded and continued on our way to the pharmacy.

We found the door to the pharmacy and Brent led us inside.

As I was trying to make out my surroundings, I heard Brent breathe a curse.

I froze. "What is it"?

After a tense period I heard Brent start to breathe again.

"Protectron", he whispered. "But its in hibernation mode".

"What in Steel is a Protectron?" I demanded.

"Robot security guards, made before the war. Their fission reactors and positronic brains survived the nuclear fallout and just kept on going. Tough bastards. If this one was awake, it'd have fried us by now."

We edged around the Protectron unit and headed into the pharmacy shelves.

We found a mattress on the floor with the remains of a human body spread eagled on it, its hands, feet and head removed and entrails spilling from its gut. We couldn't even determine its gender, it was so heavily mutilated.

"This is just a hobby to them", Brent informed me. "When they mean it, it's even worse".

I couldn't imagine how until I glanced out of the pharmacy and saw they'd mutilated one of their own women and chained her remains up to hang from the ceiling with a hook pierced through her sternum and another that I didn't want to even think about lower down. That's when we stumbled across another mattress, this time with a live Raider on it.

We tried to edge around but I guess she'd felt our presence because she started to wake up.

Brent didn't even pause. He pulled a knife from it's sheath, clamped his hand across her mouth and plunged the knife into her chest off to the left.

She struggled weakly for a moment and then fell still.

"Straight in the heart", Brent pointed out. "More mercy than that poor bastard got", he indicated the other mattress, "or than any of them deserve but we don't have time".

We found a good number of Med-X syrettes, Jet, Psycho, Buffout, Rad-X and Radaway.

We stuffed the lot into our back packs and decided it was time to make our exit.

We got within 3 feet of the door when we heard footsteps behind us.

I turned around to see a male Raider wearing nothing but his stained undershorts. That was aside from his .308 hunting rifle.

"WHAAAAT?" He yelled in disbelief at the fact anyone had dared to rob the robbers (and torturers and killers).

I was scared to death but I still had the laser rifle in my hands.

I aimed as quickly as I could and hit him in the midriff.

I watched, completely shocked, as his body vaporised in front of my eyes. All that was left were floating ashes.

We could hear hoots and shouts from the other end of the store so we got out as quick as we could.

They were coming!


End file.
